From The Depths...

"That's an awfully big walleye you got there," I said to Ernie as he clutched his ultra-light fishing rod.

"I'm gonna lose it," he spat. "I knew I shoulda changed line. This is last year's stuff!"

It was the end of the day and we decided to pick up a few walleyes for supper.

For some reason, Ernie grabbed his spare rod and reel a dusty Zebco 33 spooled with six-pound test.

He would frantically reel in only to have the fish run off again with 100 yards of his brittle line. His ultra-light rod was bent into a perfect U. Then it dawned on both of us. This was no walleye. It was a big lake trout, and Ernie wanted it bad.

I had the net in the water. With a big heave, Ernie hoisted that fish out of the water. She was in the net. Then she was out! We tried again. With everything I had, I pulled that big fish in the boat. In the same instant, Ernie's rod flipped up into the air. The knot had come free from the swivel.

Fishing, it appears, is a game of seconds.

That fat fish was a good 40 inches, five more than you need for a Master Angler. We took some pictures then slid her back into the lake. Then Ernie started to put fresh line on his Zebco 33.

Bad Luck at the Cat Fight...

Our destination was Lockport on the Red River, a place of legend when it comes to channel cats. We were dipping our chestwadered toes into the Red by sun up, trying our luck from shore rather than from the boat.

After loading up a catfish rig with some shrimp past its prime, I cast out and let my bobber find the flow. Soon enough, it was fish on.

And no sooner had this cat started to fight when my reel pretty much exploded in my hands. The crank fell off and I looked down to see a bird's nest of line.

I wasn't about to let this one go so I started wrapping the line around a piece of driftwood. Seemed to do the trick. My first shoreline cat was now safely on the beach.

I hadn't bothered to pack a spare rod. Luckily my buddy came to my rescue, handing me his spare baitcaster. A baitcaster? After a quick lesson, I cast out. It wasn't long before my bobber disappeared. I was concentrating on mastering the baitcaster when I heard a snap. I looked up to see six inches of my rod tip crack off and start dancing down my line. I pretended it hadn't happened and reeled in. It was hard going and when the fish surfaced, I knew why a super fat, 36-inch channel catfish!

When You Least Expect It...

Our day started out with a 20-minute flight on a swanky new Cessna from North Star Resort, across the endless patchwork of lakes and bush that make up northern Manitoba. Destination: Utik Lake. Our guide Dave suggested a bay that promised some serious action. So he cranked up the 75 horse Merc and off we went.

First cast. Bang. That bay was six feet deep, clear and completely crowded with northerns. We could see every strike. Hit after hit, we hauled them in. I never wanted to leave Utik Lake, but the float plane was coming. On the dock I threw a few casts just for fun. I turned my head just in time to see a swirl the size of a truck tire. Then there was such a hit that I literally had to dig in my heels, just like those cartoons where the fish threatens to pull the angler into the drink.

I heard our guide Dave yelling, Yep, that’s a big one as he grabbed the net. Run and reel. Run and reel. After what seemed like forever, she was finally in the net. As fat around the middle as my leg and 42 inches long. What a way to end the perfect day!